


When Night Falls

by i_am_an_iron_fan



Category: werewolves - Fandom
Genre: Boarding School, Other, Short Story, Werewolf Angst, Werewolf Turning, Werewolves, fall - Freeform, werewolf boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 16:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12062460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_an_iron_fan/pseuds/i_am_an_iron_fan
Summary: “Following the leaf-laden trail to the outskirts of the forest, Duncan kept his strides long and leisurely, preserving as much energy as physically possible. He had a very long night ahead of himself.”





	When Night Falls

 

 

 

*******

**Lairg, Scotland. 1982.**

 

His ears were still ringing when he got back to his dormitory.

 

Shaking, he locked the door behind himself and immediately put on a pot of water to boil. Tea solves everything, he thought to himself in the wise words of his grandmother.

 

He brought the small mug to his lips and the lemon soothed his dry throat. He moved to the window. It overlooked the courtyard. For some reason, seeing the sparrows chunk through the damp earth, helped to slow his rapid breathing.

 

Once the mug was drained completely, prophetic ambition overcame the boy and compelled him to rifle through the old rucksack he kept beneath his bed.

 

A compass, a paracord bracelet, a book cataloguing poisonous and medicinal plants, a tarp, sleeping bag, a water filtration bottle, firestarter with tinder, a bottle of ibuprofen, a change of clothing, and fifteen packs of assorted dehydrated meals.

 

Satisfied with the kit he put together, he made sure to grab his glasses case and dress in his warmest clothes. A glance in the mirror.

 

"You've got this, Duncan. Nothing you haven't been through before." He sighed and combed back his hair stuffing it into his stocking cap.

 

*******

 

As he made his way down the dimly lit fourth floor corridor, the yellowed tinge was starting to creep into the corners of his vision. He rubbed his gloved hand over his eyes and blinked hard, picking up the pace.

 

"Where ya headed off ta, Dunce?" a tinny voice sounded off to his right. A door slammed shut.

 

"Sorry, but I've got some project recon ta do in the forest tonight, Clara. No time at all for a chat." Duncan was genuinely apologetic for his lack of time for his best mate, but this was important.

 

Clara understood and smiled. She always understands.

 

"I guess I'll just walk you out then? Is this top secret?" she smirked again.

 

"Kind of, I guess." He pulled out the botany tome out of his pack and handed it to her. She lit up.

 

"I love botany! What's yer favourite succulent? Mine's conophytum! They look like little flowery stones. I love them."

 

"I-uh, I'm not quite sure. I guess I like aloe vera well enough. I know more of herbs and flowers, honestly. Things with healing properties. Kind of beautiful." They were at the front access.

 

Clara handed back the paperback and gave the boy a quick hug. Then ran off to the kitchen, red hair flapping against her back. Duncan smiled.

 

*******

 

A deep lungful of the chilly air did his mind some good. His thoughts cleared up slightly as they always do in the outdoors.

 

Following the leaf-laden trail to the outskirts of the forest, Duncan kept his strides long and leisurely, preserving as much energy as physically possible. He had a very long night ahead of himself.

 

Frost began to develop on the toes of his boots where dew had earlier brushed against them. He pulled his jacket tighter against his chest and pulled a scarf from the sack, twining it round his face and neck. He could see his breath.

 

The flesh covering his knuckles began to ache, he wasn't sure whether or not it was from the cold.

 

What seemed to be two hours came to an end. The sun was setting.

 

*******

 

Duncan pulled the tarp, paracord, and sleeping sack out from his bag.

 

Accommodations made, the boy worked on completing a firepit.

 

A nearby stream allowed him to fill two pots with water to boil for his morning meals. The moon was almost completely out by now. Its face rested behind a thick layer of cloud cover.

 

Mindful of the time, Duncan took three ibuprofen capsules seeing as his knees and upper back began to bother him.

 

He crawled into his shelter and wrapped himself tight into the sleeping bag. Willing himself to sleep proved to be a difficult task.

 

After around twenty minutes, sleep consumed the boy.

 

*******

Red.

Ache.

Burning.

 

The boy's eyes snapped open and he lunged from the tent. Through the pain, he meticulously but quickly stripped away the sweaty clothes that clung to his skin. This time, he tore only his shirt and socks.

 

The bones in his feet split and cracked. Hands wrung and clenched. The forest around him was now fully tinted yellow. Ligaments stretched. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and grew. The thrumming in his head became louder than ever. He fell to his knees and taking in fistfuls of mulch, screamed with a volume unholy.

 

 

*******

**Glasgow, Scotland. 2016.**

 

"Da? I don't understand? Is the boy alright?" the old man smirked and chuckled.

 

"Very much so, son. You see, I didn't very well tell ya this story to scare ya. More to teach ya." He could see the blank questioning on the boy's face.

"You'll be fifteen soon, right?" the boy beamed and nodded. "Well you see, that's how old I was, when it first happened to me. And your grandmother before me. This is a rite of passage for those on my side of the family. There's no need to be ashamed, or frightened, but you must tell nobody. People don't yet understand, and are still quite weary of our existence. Do ya understand?" the young man nodded again and hugged his father.

 

"I understand, Papa."

 

"Good. Now, take your time with this. You've two months before yer birthday. I'm here if you need a talking to. So is your gran-" he placed a warm hand on his boy's shoulder and smiled "You are so far from alone. I love you, son."

 

"I love you too, Da. I've one question, though."

 

"What is it?"

 

"Do vampires exist?" his face was brimming with excitement.

 

"Well, I'm not an expert, but yer aunt Faye sure is." He smirked and gave the boy a sly wink. A gasp left the young man's lips and he covered his mouth with a hand.

 

The boy's father stood up and gave his son's head a kiss and his hair a tousle. "Goodnight."

 

"Goodnight, Da."

 

That night, the boy heard his father's truck pull out of the garage. Rushing to his window, he saw that the bed was filled with a camp stove, and tent.

 

He ran to his wall calendar and pointed to the date, reading the small black print scrawled along the bottom.

 

  * **_Full Moon_**



****

The boy's face lit up in a grin.

*******

 

That night, sleep was hard to come by, but once he heard the familiar howl come from the mountains, the boy's eyes fluttered shut and only opened again at sunrise.


End file.
